


OG chapters that i’m too sentimental to part with

by carpenoctem (Thecrazyfangirlshipper)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thecrazyfangirlshipper/pseuds/carpenoctem





	OG chapters that i’m too sentimental to part with

Mine, chapter 2  
-edited as of 8/10/19-

*Three Months Later*

The caravan moved quickly, whipping from kingdom to kingdom, finally they reached the thick rainforest south of the Mediterranean, the home to the Aurometsan empire, they rarely bought slaves from Kaysar, the ringleader of the caravan, but the empress was a relation, and the hospitality from her was more than worth the trek to reach it.

As Kaysar began to carefully search for the trigger in the stone wall, he was distracted by a groan and a thud from the sand behind him. 

He grimaced when he realized who it was. 

“Fucking Carnahan...” he mumbled. “Get up!” He shouts, dragging Jonathan up off the sand, before snapping the twine off of his neck, and inserting the crystal pendent into a small slot on the side of a small crack in the rock. Leaning over to a gunman close to him, he mumbled, “When Carnahan doesn’t get sold, I want you to take him outside the city walks and take care of him.

The stone suddenly shifts to the side, revealing a clear path through an otherwise uncrossable terrain. Kaysar waves his arm and shouts to signal the rest of the caravan to proceed, as he leads them down the path, his camel in tow.

The only thing on Jonathan’s mind as they approach the city is how he could possibly escape, having been with this caravan for 3 months, he knew Kaysar’s threat had been serious. If he wasn’t sold here, he’d be laid out in the desert somewhere. Neither option seemed particularly good.

As they approached the village, people seemed amiable enough, a couple people passed mangoes to the guardsmen, patting them on the shoulder like they’d known each other a long time.

Finally, Jonathan’s attention was drawn by a large castle type building, with large pillars, and glassless windows on the bottom floors, allowing the fresh air in. As they approached the castle, Jonathan heard footsteps from the entrance, and turned his head to see the most beautiful woman he had ever seen descending the steps at a quick pace. 

Her hair was near black, and her skin was a pale olive shade, the freckles and blemishes that dotted her heart-shaped face gave her a sun kissed look. Her plump lips were coated in silvery-white pigment, and gave off a shine in the sun. She wore light clothing that flowed behind her as she walked. 

“Cousin.” She addressed Kaysar, walking over to the man in question, Jonathan tuned out the majority of their conversation, focusing instead on how he could escape certain death. 

He had been with the caravan just over 3 months now, three months since he had been taken from Evy and Rick and dragged through the desert to be put on the selling block. He glanced down and blinked some sand out of his eyes, before looking up to notice the woman from before was watching him.

....  
Kaysar had ordered his best slaves to display for inspection by the empress, three men and three women, all of different ethnicities kneeled in front of the caravan.

She shook her head and turned away. “My servants will supply you with food and drink for your journey back home, you may stay the night if you wish.”

“Thank you, Clytemnestra.”

She nods in response, before walking away from Kaysar, to trail along the side of the stream, occasionally looking over to watch the servants loading up the caravans. She was running her fingers along the branches of a tree growing aside the water when something caught her eye. A man sitting in the sand. He was pale, obviously sleep and nutrition deprived from the many weeks spent with her cousin, he appeared to be in his late 20’s. She cocked her head when he turned to meet her gaze. He had kind eyes, and quickly looked back to the sand when their eyes met. Her eyes wandered leisurely as she inspected him from afar, taking in all his features. He had built up a short beard in his time with Kaysar, it was obvious he was not comfortable with it, and that Kaysar didn’t see enough promise of a sell to take proper care of him. His clothes were dusty and torn, but still the clothes of an Englishmen. Interesting. 

“Kaysar!” She called, her eyes still locked on the Englishmen.

“Yes, cousin?”

“I want that one.”

He scoffs. “You must be kidding cousin, he’s a fool, not even a strong farmhand.”

“I want him, Kaysar. He’ll make a pretty little plaything.”

Kaysar nods, a faint expression of disbelief still on his face, and waves for one of his men to bring Jonathan forward. 

They pull Jonathan to his feet, and drag him across the sand before forcing him to his knees in front of Clytemnestra. 

“How much?”

“£10,000?”

“Sold.” She mutters immediately, her dark eyes never wavering from her intense, hungry, stare fixed on him.

Jonathan’s eyes shot up from where he was focusing intently on the sand and instead focused on the tall woman in front of him.

Sunbeams danced in her dark eyes as she called out, “Pasha!”

A young lady of about 16, dressed in linen and silk hurried out of the palace, hiking her skirts up and out of her way as she ran down the steps and across the sand.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Take care of him for me, and use my chambers.”

Pasha showed a bit of shock, but recovered so quickly Jonathan wasn’t even sure if he saw it, before she snapped her fingers and a small hoard of young women with silk dresses and pinned hair ushered Jonathan out of the sand and through the halls of the palace. 

Jonathan immediately protested as the women begun tugging off his clothes, but stood in shock when he saw the bathing room they had just thrown him into, the floor and elements of the room were constructed entirely of white marble, with gold leaf swirling into patterns across the ceiling. The ladies took advantage of his distraction and stripped him of the rest of his clothing before lightly pushing him into a large circular bathing tub with bubbles pouring over the sides, the ladies scrubbed at his hair, muttering back and forth in what sounded like Latin, though the syllables sounded foreign riding on their hispanic accents. His eyes shot back and forth between the ladies and the ornamental elements of the room, his attention being particularly drawn to the cases of fine jewels that were mounted on the mahogany walls. He was confused, and on edge. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, or why he was being waited on, or why it was in the empresses private chambers. 

Soon enough the tub was being drained, and Jonathan was glad to be clean for the first time in many weeks, the ladies drying him with fluffy towels, and his mind wandered towards how pleasant this situation would be under different circumstance. The next half hour blended together, as ladies rubbed a cream in his hair, a different cream on his skin, gave him a clean shave, and went as far as cleaning his nails. Finally, when Jonathan was wrapped in a linen robe, he assumed this was all over, but the ladies pushed him into a room that led off of this one, and shoved some brightly pigmented clothing into his arms, before retreating out of the room and him leaving to dress and find a moment of peace. He pulled on the clothing; a pair of loose fitting linen trousers and a long silk dress shirt with sleeves that stopped at the elbow. 

There was also a pair of lightly heeled slippers, he pulled those on as well and wondered how they guessed his sizes so well, before he sat back on the four-poster bed to take in the room, the sheets were grey cotton, with various brightly colored shawls and pillows tossed over them. There was also a desk, with a gold lamp and a platform where various candles, religious representations, and goblets had been arranged strategically. When Jonathan sat lightly on the bed, an unexpected wave of exhaustion hit, and he curled up, drifting off almost immediately.


End file.
